Only in Dreams
by Silindro
Summary: *complete* Although Aragorn is the king of Gondor, he wakes one morning in Arwen's bed to find that not only is he not in Minas Tirith, but he's an elf. Very AU, but it's an interesting idea.
1. Interrogation

standard disclaimers apply.  
  
chapter one: Interrogation  
  
"Mother," Eldarion said as he came into his parents' study, crawling onto Arwen's lap. "If you look like an elf, and if I look like an elf, why are we not?"  
  
Arwen's eyes shot over to those of her husband's. Such questioning had never come about from their son, or any of their children before, and neither were sure of how to go about answering it. After all, what did one say to a five year old concerning heritage and the loss of innocence?  
  
"Well," Arwen began. "Not long ago I -was- an elf."  
  
"Then that makes you an elf now?" the child questioned.  
  
"No, I am human now, just as you are, and just as your father is," Arwen said. She ran a hand through her son's dark, silky hair. So much like his father's.  
  
"How can that be?"  
  
"Well you know of immortality," Arwen said questioningly. Eldarion shook his head yes. "A long time ago I swore to your father that I loved him enough to share his life. When I made that promise, it was decided that I shall suffer the Doom of Man."  
  
"What is this that you speak of?"  
  
"When my time comes, I shall die as everyone else does when their time on Middle Earth is done."  
  
Eldarion looked shocked at his mother's words, and he threw himself at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck.  
  
"But I don't want you to die!" he sobbed.  
  
"Oh, Eldarion, I will be here for many, many years to come. My time here is not done with," Arwen comforted.  
  
Eldarion pulled back and wiped at his eyes, the happiness coming to light them up. He was very close with his mother.  
  
"So you loved father enough to become a mortal?" Eldarion questioned.  
  
"Yes, I did. Now does that answer your question?"  
  
Eldarion nodded and jumped off of Arwen's lap. He ran to his father and tugged at Aragorn's hand, pulling his attention from the book he was reading. Aragorn smiled and lifted the child into his arms, holding him close.  
  
"What is it?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Can I see your sword?"  
  
Aragorn laughed heartily at his son, for the child's curiosity never waivered. He was always trying to get his hands on something. Usually the object of his desire was a weapon of destruction, and this amused Aragorn to no end. His son was going to be a grand soldier.  
  
"Not tonight, My Son," Aragorn said while patting the child's head. "Perhaps tomorrow. The hour grows late and it is time that you were in bed."  
  
"I am not tired," Eldarion protested.  
  
"Bed for you all the same."  
  
Arwen stood and took Eldarion from Aragorn's arms, carrying him out of the study. Together the royal family walked through the palace toward their chambers to put the child to bed and turn in themselves for the night.  
  
Arwen laid her son down on his bed and pulled the sheets up to his chin, making sure he was warm since there was always a terrible draft. She sat by his side for a few moments as the child drifted off to sleep, singing a soft melody to him in her native Sindarin tongue. It was not long before Eldarion was asleep.  
  
"That was beautiful," Aragorn said when Arwen had walked out into the hallway. "Tis a shame that you do not sing these songs for me."  
  
"It is such a shame that you are always occupied with other things, or else I would sing for you," Arwen said as she shut and bolted the door to their chamber.  
  
"It is not the fault of mine that you have an insatiable need for-"  
  
Arwen had silenced her husband with a kiss soft and gentle that he responded to his great passion, making her weak in the knees. He wrapped a strong arm around her back and pulled her closer, willing their contact past the borders of public decency.  
  
"Always insatiable," Aragorn muttered as Arwen pushed him backwards toward the bed. "Always."  
  
Aragorn smiled blissfully as Arwen began pulling and tugging at his shirt, ripping the fabric from his body. The material tore in several places and Arwen paid no attention as she tossed it to the floor.  
  
"That was my favorite shirt, you know?" Aragorn said to Arwen.  
  
"It is of no matter now," she said while trailing kissed over his collar bone. "The past is the past."  
  
"Yes," Aragorn said while flipping a very startled Arwen onto her back beneath him. "The past is the past. This is the present, and can you guess what will happen in the very near future?"  
  
Arwen laughed at her husband's play with words. She loved it when his innuendos always promised something good.  
  
"Hold your tongue and show me."  
  
"That is a most welcome idea."  
  
# # # # # # # # # #  
  
Later that night Aragorn lay content with Arwen close to his heart, sleeping peacefully. He sighed happily and reflected back on the conversation that had been held earlier in the day with their son. What had caused him to be so curious? Had they not always told him that there was no difference between he and the other children? Did one characteristic set him so far apart from those his own age?  
  
Aragorn's thoughts strayed from Eldarion to the child's grandfather. It had been many years since he had last seen Elrond. It had been many years since he had last seen Imladris. The city was probably deserted now. All of the elves, save Legolas and Arwen's twin brothers had gone into the west.  
  
Aragorn began to think about the elves and the ways of old that he missed more than anything else in Middle Earth. If only he had been born into the elven race he too could have shared in their unique culture. That was the one trait of jealousy that he had always possessed deep in his heart. He had grown up in the house of Elrond but had never been fully accepted among those that had taken him in.  
  
Then he thought of Arwen and how she could have been spared the eventual death that she would suffer had he been born an elf. It was all so frustrating. He could had fully had the blessing of Elrond and kept Arwen safe in his arms for all time had he not been born a man.  
  
The anger flared in him like it had in his younger days in Imladris. But there was no way to change the way he was. He only had his dreams to indulge in. Only his dreams. . . .  
  
  
  
a/n: i don't know if you guys think this plot is too far-fetched or not, but i figured that since it's never been done before (at least i don't think it has) i would work with it. it's going to be a rather sickeningly fluff fic, i believe. but that all depends on what you think. so don't forget to review and check out some of my other stuff!! 


	2. Imladris

standard disclaimers apply.  
  
chapter two: Imladris  
  
It was morning once again, Aragorn could feel the sunlight poking at his eyes. He stretched his length, feeling the sensation of warm skin in the bed next to him. His eyes still closed, he pulled the figure against his chest and held them there tightly.  
  
"Will you sleep forever?" Arwen asked with a yawn. "Or will you have the good mind to rise and greet the day?"  
  
Aragorn smiled and buried his face into the back of Arwen's neck, inhaling deeply the scent of her skin. She had always been intoxicating to him. Everything about her, and even then as they lay entwined together in bed, Aragorn could still feel his sanity slipping slowly away as he drowned in her essence.  
  
"I choose not the day, but the nights and my time with you," Aragorn murmred.  
  
"Well your time with me this morning will be short lived, for I have many things to attend to," Arwen said as she rolled out of bed.  
  
Aragorn opened his eyes for the first time and watched Arwen walk out of the bedroom and into a large closet where it was presumed they kept their clothing. Then it came to Aragorn that this setting was not very right.  
  
This room he was in was not his bed chamber in Minas Tirith. This was Arwen's bed chamber in Imladris. Panic swept over him and caused him to sit up sharply and look around. Everything was the same as it had been in Imladris many years before when the elves had still inhabited that part of Middle Earth.  
  
Aragorn began to call on Arwen and ask her what was happening, but she was already back in the room and at his side, a concerned look on her face.  
  
"Estel, what is it?" she asked as she placed a cool hand on his forehead. "You do not look well. You are very pale."  
  
"This is not Minas Tirith," he said as his eyes scanned the room again.  
  
"No, why should it be? The city of men is a world away from here," she explained.  
  
"But we live in Minas Tirith," he said in a quivering voice. "What are we doing here?"  
  
Arwen pressed a hand to Aragorn's chest and pushed him back onto the mattress, making sure he was comfortable. She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing a lock off of his forehead. Perhaps he was ill.  
  
"Maybe you think you are dreaming," Arwen said with a small smile. "You need more time to wake up."  
  
"Yes, maybe that is the case," Aragorn said in agreement. "Perhaps I will be along when I am more conscious."  
  
Arwen nodded and leaned down, kissing his forehead and whispering that she loved him into his ear. She kissed the tip of his ear as well before standing and leaving the room, leaving Aragorn to his thoughts.  
  
It was not much longer after that when Aragorn found himself throwing off the sheets and walking into the other room for clothing. He found nothing that resembled his ranger clothing or his kingly attire as he fingered through the garments. Everything was in the intricate style of the Grey- Elves of Rivendell; their long, flowy robes mixed with Arwen's dresses.  
  
Aragorn shook his head and sighed before taking a green robe from its hanger and putting it on as he had seen his foster brothers Elladan and Elrohir do many times before. The elven clothing was always difficult to assemble correctly.  
  
Once his dressing was complete he walked over to the window in the main bedchamber and looked out at the city of Imladris. It was just as he had remembered it from his days before becoming king. The leaves were golden and warm in color, some falling from their overcrowded branches to the stone paths below. Several elves walked along the walkways as they went about their business.  
  
On a balcony several hundred feet away Aragorn saw Arwen standing with her father, Elrond. They were deep in conversation, their hand gestures wild as they spoke. Elrond looked up halfway through his speech and saw Aragorn standing at the window. The older elf waved hello to Aragorn, as did his daughter who smiled happily.  
  
Aragorn smiled and waved back as Elrond and Arwen went about their conversation.  
  
Looking around the room, Aragorn saw a mirror in the corner. Deciding that he must look something dreadful, he walked over to the mirror and gasped at what he saw.  
  
Instead of his normal rugged appearance, he was surprised to see that his skin was without lines or anything obstructing. None of his former scars were visible. And then there was his hair. It wasn't the shoulder length that he had always kept it. It was instead halfway down his back, the locks shimmering and soft like he had always known elven hair to be. Elven.  
  
Aragorn took a deep breath. Nothing was making any sense to him on this morning. Not only had he woken up in Imladris, but he had woken up with the feeling that something was very wrong. He didn't feel at all like himself. It was as if he were in another body. And all signs in the mirror so far pointed to one thing that he was becoming more and more certain of.  
  
Aragorn lifted his hand from his side and brought it to his hair. Closing his eyes he pulled the locks on one side back, tucking them behind his ear. When he opened his eyes again, his thoughts were confirmed to be true. He had every characteristic of the elves. Ears included.  
  
Thoughts roamed back to the night before when he had laid in his bed in Minas Tirith with Arwen at his side. He had been so selfish his entire life as to want elven heritage, especially that previous night, and wishful thinking had gotten him exactly what he always wanted deep inside.  
  
A smile lit his face as he glanced again into the mirror, happy to see his reflection.  
  
The door opened and Arwen peered inside, glad to see that he was awake and smiling. Aragorn rushed over to his wife and lifted her from the ground, twirling her about in a large circle before placing her back onto the floor, but close within the confines of his arms. He touched her face gently and brought it to his, kissing her deeply good morning.  
  
"I am glad to see that you are in better spirits. I thought your mind had gone when you began talking of the cities of men this morning," Arwen said with laughter.  
  
"Yes, I do not know what I was thinking."  
  
"Well you are well now, and I need not bother myself with my duties this minute, so shall we take a walk and enjoy the splendor of the season?" Arwen asked as she took a step toward the door.  
  
"Yes, that sounds wonderful."  
  
Arwen took Aragorn's hand and lead him out of the bed chamber and into the city of Imladris. Together they walked in the shade of the trees, Aragorn's new elven senses bringing him amusement and happiness. Although raised by elves, he had never thought that their senses were as good as the ones he was experiencing for the first time. Every sound was amplified, and every sight seemed clearer. Walking became instantly more graceful for him, and he felt powerful.  
  
The elves of the city greeted he and Arwen good day as they passed, and it was as if he hadn't just arrived that morning. They all seemed to know him better than he knew himself, and that was distressing.  
  
Thankfully Arwen hadn't asked any questions, for what would he do if he should not know the answer? But there were also questions that he should have liked the answers to, but no way of asking them without giving away the fact that he knew nothing.  
  
"I suppose you have not heard the news of the day," Arwen said as they walked.  
  
"No, I have not."  
  
"We have guests in the city. They arrived this morning before you or I awoke."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"There is to be a feast in their honor, since we have not had visitors of men in the city for many years."  
  
"Let us celebrate."  
  
Halfway through the day while Arwen went about her personal duties Aragorn sat in the elven library with many books in front of him. He was going through historical documents and family lineage to try and find any sign of parentage in ths version of his life. He was interrupted by the clearing of a throat that belonged to his father in law.  
  
"Many a day have I found you sitting in this exact spot with book upon book on the table in front of you. Tell me, my son, do you still seek to find records of your parents?"  
  
Aragorn nodded once and closed the book in front of him.  
  
"Estel, you should not dwell on bothersome troubles of the past. Your parents are gone. They have not come back for you in the three thousand years you have been in my care, and they will not come back for you in three thousand years to come."  
  
"Tell me again how I came to be in your care," Aragorn said quietly, hoping that Elrond would elaborate on the subject.  
  
Elrond walked forward into the library. He took the seat across the table from Aragorn and sat with his hands clasped together.  
  
"The weather that day was harsh," Elrond said thoughtfully. "I had just come in from a long journey to Lothlórien when I heard the sound of a crying child in the path ahead. The rains were becoming heavier and heavier so I stopped and found you laying in a basket."  
  
Elrond smiled at the memory as he looked at Aragorn sitting in front of him.  
  
"Celebrían fell in love with you from the moment I carried you in the door. I was more skeptical since we already had Elladan and Elrohir to look after since they were still young and troublesome. But she insisted on keeping you as one of our own."  
  
"I miss her," Aragorn said softly. Although in his man life he had never known Celebrían, memories of her came flooding through his mind in his elf life. It was as if he had been there all along; the emotion took over him.  
  
"I am sure she misses you," Elrond replied. "One of these days we shall all travel to the Grey Havens and be reunited."  
  
"I long for the day."  
  
There was a quiet moment between the two as they sat with their own thoughts before interruption came to stir them. Arwen stood in the doorway of the library, reguarding each with silent amusement.  
  
"Hardly do I ever see the both of you in the same room as quiet as I find you now," she said.  
  
"Perhaps you always intrude at the wrong moments?" Aragorn said with a smirk.  
  
"Intrusion?" Arwen asked in disbelief.  
  
Elrond chuckled from the side as he stood. Walking past his daughter in the doorway he stopped to kiss her cheek lightly and give her words of love before leaving.  
  
Arwen walked around to stand behind Aragorn, wrapping her arms about his neck. She kissed him many times on the cheek before he turned to capture her lips, the familiar sweet feeling of them sending tingles up his spine.  
  
"You know not what effect you have on me," Aragorn said breathlessly.  
  
"It is not hard to see," Arwen said smirking.  
  
Aragorn looked away in defeat as Arwen had won that battle of wit.  
  
"Then perhaps you have a remedy for this effect?" Aragorn asked hopefully.  
  
"I am the daughter of a very skilled healer," Arwen replied while giving Aragorn her hand as he stood. "So perhaps I can solve the problem."  
  
Aragorn laughed heartily as he was lead out of the library and into their bed chamber for a small bit of pleasure before their presence was requested at a banquet that evening. It was to be a grand occasion to honor guests that had arrived in Imladris from Minas Tirith that day.  
  
  
  
a/n: thanks for reviews for chapter one. they helped a lot in writing. and thanks to my betas. sorry about any typos or things that don't make sense. correc them for me. don't forget to review this chap!!! 


	3. The Guests from Minas Tirith

standard disclaimers apply.  
  
  
  
Chapter Three: The Guests from Minas Tirith  
  
  
  
That evening started off tense as Aragorn had no idea of what or who he would find at dinner. He wasn't even sure of what time in history he had found himself wrapped in; whether it be the future, the past, or the present time from when he had left the world of men.  
  
They would be dining outside that evening under the beauty of the trees of Imladris. That time of year always produced the most gorgeous of shades in the foliage. Torchlights lit the parameter of the area that had been reserved for the feast, their flames burned brightly in the fading light of the evening.  
  
The tables in the clearing were set in a U shape with the fifty or so chairs on the outside so everyone was allowed to face each other. A large chair sat in the middle of the table that conjoined the other two. This was Elrond's seat for dinner, although it was empty now. Aragorn and Arwen sat to the left of Elrond's chair in quiet conversation.  
  
"What troubles you, Estel?" Arwen asked worriedly.  
  
"Trouble? Nothing troubles me. I am simply awaiting the guests in anticipation," he said calmly.  
  
"Then why do you incessantly tap your foot upon the ground as if you are worried?" Arwen said as she placed her hand on his thigh. He immediately stopped tapping.  
  
Aragorn opened his mouth and was about to reply to her when several elves walked into the clearing followed by many men clad in the garb of Gondor. All the elves seated at the tables stood in respect as the guests made their way to the tables and to the empty seats.  
  
Aragorn scanned the group of men for a familiar face. Any familiar face. Although he was not sure what he would do should he find one. He was still torn on whether or not he was glad to be in this elvish world.  
  
As the group neared its end Aragorn felt his body relax. Maybe he wouldn't have to deal with any unwanted emotions that night. He could go about his new life in peace.  
  
Then Elrond came into the clearing followed by what one could only presume to be the leaders of the group of men. Aragorn felt the blood drain from his face and his vision waiver as Elrond introduced these few men to the crowd of elves.  
  
"I present to you Faramir, the Captain of Gondor and his wife Éowyn of Rohan," Elrond proclaimed.  
  
Aragorn's heart beat in his chest loudly as he watched Faramir and Éowyn walk over to take their seats on the other side of Elrond at the table. Aragorn could feel the eyes of Faramir upon him and he looked up to stare back.  
  
"Allow me to introduce my daughter, Arwen, and her husband Estel," Elrond said as the food was brought to the tables. "Estel is a master swordsman; a quality not often found in the realm of the elves."  
  
Aragorn's eyes must have shown his surprise for Arwen gave him a strange look. At least there was one less question that needed answering.  
  
"I am aware that Rivendell and Minas Tirith are far apart in distance, but it seems as if I have known you from somewhere else," Faramir said as he studied Aragorn's face.  
  
Aragorn looked to Elrond for direction.  
  
"From somewhere else?" Elrond asked. "Estle has not ventured abroad for more than three days from the company of Imladris. It is doubtful that you have known him."  
  
"Yes, perhaps I am mistaken," Faramir said, not completely convinced.  
  
After several odd moments of silence, Elrond spoke again to Faramir. "Tell me, Faramir, how is your brother? Is he in good health?"  
  
Aragorn's face paled at the mention of Boromir. Alive. What else was different in this world?  
  
Faramir nodded. "When we left him last he was in poor health. It does not do to go riding in the rain and cold at all hours of the night. He wanted to come with us, but I would not let him."  
  
"His wife, my cousin, practically had to tie him down to the bed," Éowyn said in good humor.  
  
"Perhaps next time we might meet him in person?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"I will see it done," Faramir said.  
  
Dinner passed more quickly than Aragorn would have thought, and he was looking forward to a good night's sleep and perhaps some personal time with his wife. Yes, that did seem nice. A smile crossed his features at the thought.  
  
Arwen noticed his dreamlike state and cocked her head at him in curiosity.  
  
"Why do you smile?" Arwen asked.  
  
"Is it a bad thing that I smile?"  
  
"No, it is not, but you were not happy a few moment ago."  
  
Aragorn leaned in toward Arwen and whispered in her ear, "You should smile too considering what I plan on doing to you later."  
  
A shiver went up Arwen's spine and she did smile.  
  
Not long after that everyone had begun to leave the dining area in search of other forms of entertainment. Aragorn knew what kind of entertainment he was looking for, so he grabbed Arwen around the waist and pulled her against him as everyone had begun to leave the clearing. He whispered something into her ear and she nodded in response with a smile lighting up her features.  
  
Together they walked back arm in arm among the other guests that walked and talked in the twilight. The time after sunset was always quiet and peaceful in Imladris. Aragorn remembered the city in his days as a child to be as things were now. At least there was no ring in this world to destroy everything. He could live in peace with Arwen. At least he thought. The Ring had never occured to him in this life. Perhaps it still survived.  
  
"Estel?"  
  
Aragorn shook himself out of his trance to see that they had already reached their destination. There were no more thoughts of rings or torment that night as Aragorn set his eyes on the most beautiful elf in Middle Earth.  
  
Arwen ran a finger down Aragorn's jaw, tracing back up to his lips where she lifted herself up to kiss. She ran her kisses across his cheek and nipped lightly at his earlobe. There was an instant reaction as Aragorn felt for the first time what it was like to have the sensitive elven ears used in foreplay. It was one of the most pleasing feelings he had ever known.  
  
"Come," Arwen said softly as she took ahold of his hands and pulled him back with her to the bed. They sat down on the end and gazed at each other lustfully. Aragorn reached out and ran his hands through her silky smooth hair. He had always loved that about her. Her pale skin was almost silver in the moonlight that streamed through the window.  
  
"Kiss me, Estel," Arwen moaned as Aragorn's fingers brushed across her lips.  
  
"As the lady asks," Aragorn said as he scooted closer, bringing his lips down to touch hers.  
  
There was nothing but blind passion after that moment. Both reacted to the other in perfect harmony as if they had been together as such for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. For all Aragorn knew they had been. But not knowing everything about this new life was beginning to tire his mind.  
  
Arwen called out his name loudly and Aragorn silenced it with a kiss so as no one else would hear her yells of pleasure. He had to silence his own cries into her neck as together they were both spent in the night.  
  
"That was refreshing," Aragorn said casually as he rolled onto his back, pulling her against his chest.  
  
"You are good at it," Arwen commented.  
  
"It takes two."  
  
There was silence afterwards as they lay in the comfort of each other's arms. It seemed like hours that Aragorn had been laying there before Arwen took notice and said anything.  
  
"Why have you not yet fallen asleep?" Arwen asked.  
  
"Why haven't you?"  
  
"I do not sleep when you do not," she said matter of factly.  
  
"My mind is elsewhere."  
  
"What do you think of?" Arwen asked curiously.  
  
"Small things. Nothing of any bother to anyone but myself."  
  
"You should get some sleep before council tomorrow," Arwen commented as she yawned. "They will not want you asleep."  
  
"Council?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Yes, the Men are here seeking elven council. Where has your mind gone, Melamin?" Arwen asked playfully.  
  
"My mind and my heart are one, and I gave them both to you a long time ago."  
  
  
  
  
  
a/n: thanks to my betas. many many thanks a thousand times over, all four of you!!!! i am very sorry it took me this long o get this chapter out. it was being such a pain. i had to rewrite it at least six times. and i finally got this chapter. by now the fic should have been mostly over, but i just prolonged it a few chapters. and thanks for all of you who reviewed. your comments menat a lot, as this chapter wouldn't have even been here had your reviews not been given. and i need major help with the next chapter, so message me on AIM. and if you have me on your buddy list, my screen name just changed, so it's now LLsiLindroLL. don't froget to review!! 


	4. Decisions

standard disclaimers apply.  
  
  
  
Chapter Four: Decisions  
  
  
  
Aragorn woke that morning before the light of the new day. He knew not what awoke him from his peaceful slumber in the arms of his beloved, but whatever it was drew him to the window to behold the splendor of Imladris in the time before the city would awaken.  
  
Something inside was begging him to go out into the wild and explore the paths of the nearby trees and forest as he had done in his early youth. A yearning pulled at his heart.  
  
So some moments later he found himself clad in scouting clothing that was burried in the back of the closet. His sword dangled like a trustworthy friend at his side. Walking over to the bed he kissed Arwen softly before turning and walking out the door.  
  
The darkness that had shadowed the city while still standing in his bed chamber was now fading, and the midnight sky was now turning into daylight in the east. He needed to hurry and find his way out of the city before any of the council members of the day found him. He just knew that they would pull him abck into the political world and his time would be spent thinking of the adventure that lay just outside of the city.  
  
As he escape finally out to the main path from Imladris he let out a sigh of relief. No one had followed him, but he could not be sure for he was still not perfectly in tune with his elven senses.  
  
"Thank the Valar," he murmered.  
  
"For what?" came a voice from above. Faramir, the Captain of Gondor jumped from a high branch of a tree to land in front of Aragorn.  
  
"You startled me," Aragorn said as he let go of the hilt of his sword.  
  
"It is not often that one startles an elf. Surely you knew I was here with you?"  
  
Aragorn was at a loss for words. He had felt something strange upon walking into the forest, something not unlike the feelings he got from his ranger sense when alone in the world of men. But he had dismissed it. Now he knew.  
  
"Yes, but I did not expect you to jump from that tree," he replied.  
  
"You could have taken my head off with your sword," Faramir said in amusement.  
  
"I could have."  
  
"Well no longer shall we fret over small things such as you killing me or I jumping out of a tree to startle you. Let us shake hands and be friends."  
  
Faramir stuck his hand out to Aragorn to shake. Aragorn reached out and clasped it tightly, surprised at the familiarity of the feel. Many times had he shaken hands with Faramir in the other life.  
  
"Friends," Aragorn said. Faramir nodded in response.  
  
The two walked along the path away from Imladris for a while before passing well beyond the city's borders. For Faramir he was walking in unfamiliar territory, but Aragorn knew the setting well enough. He used to play in the trees in his youth with Elladan and Elrohir. But that had been back before his ranger days. When he was jsuta teenager, and Elladan and Elrohir no more mature than him in their own youth.  
  
Faramir noticed the smile that played at Aragorn's lips and he could do nothing but ask what amused the elf so much.  
  
"I was just recalling my childhood," Aragorn answered. "Myself and my wife's brothers used to play in these trees."  
  
"I have heard that elves can hide themselves in plain site in the foliage," Faramir said questioningly.  
  
Aragorn laughed lightly and nodded. That skill was not only limited to the elves. The twins had also taught him the skill of keeping one's self concealed in danger. Aragorn had taught this skill to the other rangers in his early days.  
  
"The sun is high enough in the sky that we should be getting back," Faramir said.  
  
"Can council not wait?" Aragorn asked. "How often is it that you get to enjoy such scenery as what you have before your very eyes?"  
  
"There will be much time for this later, Estel," Faramir stressed.  
  
"Perhaps you are right. But council does not appeal to me," Aragorn said with an air of finality. He had not been informed about the council's meaning or if he was to speak in it. What if they asked him something he did not know the answer to? What would the men think of the elves then?  
  
"Let us return," Faramir said as he turned to the opposite direction and began to walk.  
  
Aragorn had no other legitimate choice but to follow in Faramir's footsteps and hope for the best.  
  
When they arrived back in Minas Tirith, the council members had already assembled and waited on the two men that had come back from their walk in the woods. Elrond looked at Aragorn curiously as the younger elf took his seat next to his father.  
  
"Lord Elrond," Faramir said as he stood before the council. "Myself and my people have come to Rivendell in a matter of warning. There has been spotted a large grouping of a colony of orcs and spare uruk hai near our northern borders."  
  
"This is a serious problem," Elrond said solemnly. "What have you done to rid yourself of them?"  
  
"At first we sent out scouts to assess the problem, and they came back with news of their multiplication. Their numbers are growing at a rate faster than they can be slain. I fear that this band will not only advance on Minas Tirith, but continue north."  
  
"Rivendell is far away from Minas Tirith," Elrond said.  
  
"We reached Rivendell in two weeks time on horseback. It will not take these fiends much longer than that. And think of everyone that could be slain in the process."  
  
Elrond sat in quiet contemplation at this news presented to him. Aragorn on the other hand was still trying to process this new information. If there were Uruk Hai running about, then surely they had been created by Saruman, and that must have meant that the war of the ring had been done and finished.  
  
"What is it that you require of us that Minas Tirith cannot provide?" Elrond asked.  
  
"Archers to shoot at these monsters from a distance so that no one may be hurt from a close up battle," Faramir answered.  
  
"There will always be hand to hand combat in a battle, Captain. But if it is assistance you require, I will send archers to help you slay these demons."  
  
Faramir smiled and nodded, taking his seat with the ither men of Gondor.  
  
"When you depart from Imladris, my son," Elrond said while putting his hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Will accompany you. He is not only an accomplished swordsman but has a fine eye for archery. His skills will be most prominent on the field of battle."  
  
Aragorn smiled weakly at Elrond. Going to Minas Tirith was the farthest wish from his mind, as he had hoped to stay close to Arwen. But he would fulfil his duties wholeheartedly.  
  
"Now on to other matters," Elrond continued.  
  
Aragorn stopped listening at that point and concentrated his thoughts on a certain dark haired elf. He didn't want to break the news to her that he would be leaving. Although he knew she would accept the news, it would still break his heart to tell her.  
  
It was with his mind still on these thoughts that he left the council later in the day to retreat to his chamber.s He found Arwen there waiting for him.  
  
"Is it true?" she asked unmoving from the window. "Are you leaving Imladris to go with these Men?"  
  
Aragorn walked over to Arwen and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. She took in a shakey breath and closed her eyes, listening to the beat of his heart. A tear escaped her eyes, landing on his hand.  
  
"I know you must leave, but it still tears at my heart to let you go," Arwen said.  
  
"I will make my return swift," Aragorn pledged.  
  
"Please."  
  
  
  
a/n: yes, I know it's probably a bad ending to the chapter, but this one killed me to write as well. dunno why, but it did. maybe it's because i've had another fic plaguing my mind lately. i'm about to start a new boromir fic and it's gonna kick this one's ass. although i do hope you review, for it makes my writing of the chapters much more quick and enjoyable for you. 


	5. Coming Home

disclaimer: tolkien blah blah blah.  
  
Chapter Five: Coming Home  
  
The road was long and dangerous, Aragorn knew this for he had many times ridden throughout Middle Earth with only himself for company, or sometimes a horse. This time there were many men to travel with, and twenty of Elrond's good archers. Although there were few, Aragorn knew that the skill of these elves would be worth more than the extensive number that men had to offer.  
  
It had been at least two weeks since Aragorn had last seen Arwen and he had missed her every moment that they had been parted. Their time together in Imladris had been wonderful as it always had been in the mortal life, and he longed for her company.  
  
Faramir saw Aragorn sitting alone on the edge of the company, his face showing deep thought as he looked up at the stars in the sky.  
  
"What do you think of?" Faramir asked as he walked over and sat on the ground next to Aragorn.  
  
"I think of my wife," Aragorn replied.  
  
"Tell me about her," Faramir said quietly.  
  
"You have seen her before," Aragorn said. "The elf with dark hair, and skin as pale as moonlight. I have known her since we were children; watched her grown for centuries. Even now I can almost feel her skin beneath my fingertips."  
  
"You must have great love for her."  
  
"Always."  
  
Faramir looked up as Éowyn began walking toward he and Aragorn. She had a soft smile on her face.  
  
Faramir looked at Aragorn and sighed softly, "Éowyn is my soul."  
  
Éowyn opened her mouth to speak when Aragorn's ears picked up the osund of horses in the distance. He was not he only to hear as his elven kin stood and walked to the border of the camp, their eyes scanning in the distance as well. Faramir stood and put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder.  
  
"What is it?" he asked worriedly.  
  
"Riders, coming from the west at a great speed. Friend or foe I am not sure, but you should have the others at the ready."  
  
Faramir looked at Éowyn and pleaded with her to run to safety, hide somewhere unseen from these intruders until it was safe. Not wanting to argue, she did as she was told, leaving everyone else ready to fight.  
  
Aragorn, being the leader of the elves, and Faramir, being the leader of the men, stood to the front with their weapons at the ready as a band of perhaps twenty strangers rode near. One of the riders rode forth and stopped in front of Aragorn.  
  
"Go back the way you came," the rider proclaimed loudly. "There is nothing left."  
  
"Nothing left? What do you mean?" Faramir asked worriedly.  
  
"Orc and Uruak-Hai have conquered the Riddermark. All survivors travel north to distant lands where they may find safety."  
  
"We travel to Minas Tirith," Aragorn said.  
  
"Minas Tirith is nothing more than a wasteland. Its people were destroyed."  
  
Aragorn felt a hand clamp onto his shoulder as Faramir tried to keep balance. Aragorn closed his eyes and took steady breaths as images of the city flashed before him.  
  
"I beg you t-" the rider stopped in mid sentence as a large arrow lodged itself into his chest. He looked down at the object before falling to his knees  
  
All heads turned to the sight of armor and weapons glinting in the moonlight.  
  
A large band of orc and Uruk-Hai stood atop a nearby hill, their weapons at the ready. Aragorn was surprised that he had not heard or seen them before they had so slyly made their way to the camp.  
  
There was a shocked moment of stillness before chaos ensued as everyone tried to find battle equipment. Aragorn found himself reaching for the sword at his side that he had not taken off earlier in the evening.  
  
It was already clear to him that even with the skill of the elves sent with him, this fight was not going to turn out well. Bodies of men and elves were already beginning to fall upon the ground like rain. It made him wonder how long her had stood there in contemplation.  
  
The sharp pain of a weapon grazed into his arm and he looked up to see the face of a horrid beast standing there with a knife held in his hand.  
  
Aragorn brought his sword up to lodge in the creature's side, knocking it off of his arma dn taking the knife with it. Aragorn stared at the blood that had begun to flow down his arm, but he paid no heed as shrill cries errupted from everywhere around him. Never in all of his days had he sensed so much loss. Maybe it was the elvish side getting to him.  
  
Aragorn threw himself into the battel with fierceness that surprised even himself. He fought bravely for the life of his comrades that now lay still on the battlefield, and the few that fought in anger around him.  
  
He could see Faramir a few feet away dripping blood from the side of his face in the moonlight that now seemed as bright as day to his eyes. An aura of anger and hostility could be seen glowing form the Captain's body as he ruthlessly fought with the orc in front of him. It was no surprise as Aragorn's eyes turned to the figure at Faramir's feet.  
  
Éowyn.  
  
Somehow the Uruk-Hai had found her. She now also lay still upon the ground, her garments laced with blood and dirt. Another victim of the terror that this evil uneashed.  
  
Aragorn's focus had been so much on that of Éowyn that he did not notice the Uruk-Hai that had stumbled upon him. The blade of the beast's weapon plunged through his side from the back, protruding out the front.  
  
Aragorn looked down in shock at the blade.  
  
There was silence in his ears as he watched the blade twist, his blood flowing from the wound. And he looked up to see Faramir's hopeless and frightened face as he watched the beast finish what he had started.  
  
Blackness began to swirl around his vision, the sights of the night and of the one-sided battle flashing before him. And in the midst he saw Arwen, her face lingering near his. He reached up to touch her, but felt leather and the metal from a uniform. Opening his eyes, Aragorn saw Faramir hovering above him.  
  
"I am sorry, my friend," Aragorn whispered. "I could not save your city."  
  
"There is nothing to be sorry for. You fought bravely."  
  
"Do not stay and fight, Faramir. Run, take what survivors you can and be gone from here. You have a chance to live."  
  
Aragorn began to cough roughly. He could feel and taste the blood in his mouth.  
  
"Tell Arwen that I love her. Tell her..."  
  
Aragorn watched Faramir fade from his vision as the battle and the moon turned into black.  
  
~-~-~-~-~  
  
Aragorn sat up abruptly and looked around to find himself not in the Rohan, but in his bedhamber in Minas Tirith. A cold sweat clung to his skin, making him shiver in the night. Beside him lay his wife, her back rising and falling in the comfort of the dreamworld.  
  
The dreamworld.  
  
Aragorn let out a long, heavy sigh s he realized that it was all a dream. A horrifying dream that he had put upon himself.  
  
"Arwen," Aragorn said as he lay back down next to his wife. "Arwen..."  
  
Arwen's eyes opened and she look over in worry at her husband. "What is it meleth-nin?"  
  
"Nothing, it was nothing."  
  
Arwen reached over and touched his face softly.  
  
"Are you sure you are alright?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, I will be fine. It was nothing more than a dream."  
  
"What did you dream?" Arwen asked curiously.  
  
Aragorn's brow furrowed as he lay there in silent thought, wondering if he should tell her about his curious experience.  
  
"I dreamed of you, and of Imladris."  
  
Arwen nodded and let out a contented sigh.  
  
"Some days I long for the past, but then when I realize that you were not in my past, I long more for the present," she said while reached over to kiss him sweetly on the lips. "And for the future."  
  
"You are happy here with me?"  
  
"More than I could ever hope to be."  
  
Aragorn nodded and closed his eyes as he lay back on the pillow. Being an elf was alright when there was no responsibility involved. Not that running a kingdom was any different. But at least he would never have to deal with torturous decisions of the sea and partings to the Halls of Mandos. No, he would be content to sit back and wait for the end of his existance with his beloved at his side.  
a/n: you're probably going to want to hurt me right about now. sorry for waiting so long to update. i've had pneumonia, so that's sucked. but this story is at its official end, so i hope you enjoyed. thanks to all who have read and reviewed. and i'm sorry if you don't like this ending. i don't either, but with my medication, it's all i could come up with. my apologies if all is not well. once agian, blame it on the meds. typos and all. REVIEW!!  
  
IMPORTANT*************IMPORTANT  
  
well, kind of. i've got a new fic coming out soon that will be centered around boromir, and it's going to be hella good. i've got a bunch of it written, but if i post the first chapter, you have to promise me that you'll review it. because i don't ahve intentions to post it until it's all written. unless i get pursuaded otherwise.... 


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